The Tiger From Paris
by DwemerSteelBlade
Summary: Villains, secrets, and a cross-European adventure that's just getting started. [Rated T for now, might be bumped up to an M later on.]
1. Chapter I: The Miraculous

0-0-0

He was most _definitely_ not expecting this.

School had just let out for the summer in Paris, and Augusto had been planning to kick off his summer like every other summer; a straight week of him reading books at a worryingly fast pace (He had finished a 300-page book in under four hours last summer).

An Argentinian-Italian student who had come to Paris to live with his lawyer (and oddly goofy) uncle, Eliano Vega, in his relatively large home, Augusto was frequently left alone for weeks on end with nobody but a nanny to look after him, since, legally, he couldn't stay home alone for the amount of time that his uncle was away on business trips.

Lara Deboffré was an elderly lady, in her late fifties, who acted as Augusto's babysitter. While the Hispanic teenager hated that term, he had nothing against the lady. She was kind and had an affinity for reading, like him, albeit with more antiquated books (he had recently seen her reading Fahrenheit 451; he had tried previously on numerous occasions, but the dialogue was just too odd for him to follow).

His uncle was currently away on another escapade, as Augusto had taken to calling them, in Poland. Apparently, some lady had managed to create a makeshift gun out of household supplies and shot her husband for not taking out the trash. Thankfully, the man hadn't died and was pressing charges. Augusto, quite frankly, found the whole thing humorous.

So, reasonably, he expected for him to have the house pretty much to himself, with Lara Bedoffré coming by to bring him meals, despite heavy protests from Augusto, stating that he could cook for himself. She would occasionally stay a day or two in the guest room, to house-sit upon Elianos' request.

The Argentine teen had a sneaking suspicion that she had also been hired to make sure he didn't throw any parties. He would always chuckle at the thought, amused that his uncle thought that Augusto had the means to throw any sort of party. In the few parties he had gone to, he had usually stayed out of the main events, and sometimes even excused himself to the bathrooms because he simply didn't want to interact with others.

A solitary summer with little to no human contact (other than Lara or Eliano) had been Augusto's ideal summer plan, but it seemed fate had something else in store for him.

His uncle had stated that Augusto wasn't allowed to enter his office. Discouragement from entering wasn't an oddity, as Elianos didn't feel safe with Augusto in the same room that held confidential folders that contained personal information sent by his clients (and that was reasonable, Augusto had to admit), but he had never been told outright to not enter.

So, he did what any teenager would've done, and broke in.

Well, 'broke in' implies that A) he forced his way inside, and that B) he was breaking the law. He had done neither, simply picking the lock. His hand wasn't the steadiest, though, and it took around thirteen tries and ten bobby pins to do so, but he wasn't in any sort of hurry.

After having gained access to the room, Augusto quickly looked around the room for cameras, the _Mission Impossible_ theme playing in his head.

After making sure there were no cameras, Augusto hesitantly stepped in.

He didn't know why he had hesitated, as he was the only one in the house at the moment. Maybe it was his conscious? Oh well. His uncle was a tidy person, by what Augusto saw, with a clean white desk in the middle, holding what looked to be a very modern computer. A white, sleek rolling chair sat behind that, on top of some sort of splash-painted rug containing mostly white, black, and orange. In a corner sat a clean white pot and some decorative branch-type-things. Against the room's stainless white walls sat cubbies, with seemingly random objects placed neatly in rows or patterns in some cubbies, with others holding drawers labeled 'Client Folders'.

Augusto had no intention of snooping around in people's private information, only to find out why his uncle had prohibited him from entering at all. Despite himself, though, he quickly opened the cubby labeled that, wondering if maybe there was some object hidden inside. Just manilla folders with labels such as 'A. Durand', 'B. Glavas', and 'O. Petrand'.

Seeing nothing of interest, he quickly closed the cubby, and decided to look at the desk. He circled around and saw that it had quite an amount of storage space in the front. He opened the top level; nothing. He opened the bottom left; nothing. He opened the top right; and there was _something_ there.

It was an old wooden chest with steel corners that could fit in his hand. It seemed sorely out of place in the very modern and minimalist office. Curious, yet hesitant, Augusto grabbed the box. What could be inside? Top secret government files from his uncle's involvement with government cases? He humored the idea for a moment, then gave a small smile at the ridiculousness. Eliano hadn't done anything related with the government, short of around four times where government officials had to press charges or had charges pressed against them.

And even then, he heavily doubted Eliano would've had access to government secrets.

Augusto stared at the box for a while, letting his mind wander as to what could be held within the simultaneously unassuming yet out-of-place box. Fed up with letting his imagination wander, he quickly opened the box.

To reveal some sort of accessorial bracelet.

It was an odd mesh of orange, black, and white fabric, metal decorating, and some dark orange gem in the middle. Below it was a note. It seemed old. _Very_ old. Older than Eliano himself. Some edges were torn, and the paper had yellowed with age. Some of the ink used to write it had dripped into the paper and made the letters uneven. It was still somewhat readable, what with Augusto's knowledge of most of the Italian language.

He barely got through the first sentence before the doorbell snapped him out of his focus, while simultaneously scaring him. He let out a short yelp of surprise, before gaining his bearings. He quickly closed the box and jammed it in his pocket, closed the drawers, and exited the office, making sure to close the door on the way out.

He quickly descended the stairs, noting that it was nine in the morning, typically when Lara brought him breakfast (he had usually eaten by then, but accepted the food nonetheless out of politeness).

He quickly reached the front door, skipping through the living room. Opening it, he found Lara, as he had expected. She was wearing a tank-top and khaki shorts, and she seemed to be sweating. She held a bag with some precooked food. Today, Augusto noted that she held in her hand some macaroni, diced vegetables, and a toasted sandwich.

"Here's your breakfast, Auggy! I was on a jog when I realized the time, so went back home and got the food," she smiled. Auggy was her nickname for him, one which he secretly hated but was too polite to say anything about. He smiled thankfully, "Thanks, Lara. You really didn't need to."

"It's fine, Auggy. Now, I must get back to my jog. _Au revoir_!" she then started jogging off back on the sidewalk, waving. Waving back, Augusto closed the door, his smile falling and letting his face fall back into its natural position; a relatively stoic face but with expressive eyes and eyebrows.

He absentmindedly put the bag of food on the island, planning on using it as a snack for the rest of the day until she dropped off lunch at around two in the afternoon.

But now, he was much more fixated on the box in his pocket than the food on the island. He reached into his pocket, grabbing it and fingering the cover. What was the bracelet for? Was it made for someone specifically? Like a duke or a king? Maybe even a noble?

He sat down at one of the barstools facing the island, opening the box and staring at the contents. He reached in for the note, so he could hold it up to a more natural light than the kitchen lamp. He walked over to one of the windows, brushing the curtains aside and holding the small, weathered piece of paper to the light. He couldn't read it word-for-word, but he got the basic concept.

According to the note, the bracelet was powerful in some sort of way, yet the note either didn't specify or the part that did specify was damaged or torn off. So that left Augusto trying to piece together what he had managed to understand.

Maybe he had to wear it? "Yeah, that's probably it," Augusto muttered to himself, stroking his chin with his hand. He carefully reached inside the box and scooped the bracelet out, as if one rough movement would make the accessory shatter. For all Augusto knew, it might. And his curiosity was driving him now, so he wouldn't take any chances with it.

He gently slid it on his left wrist, the fabric feeling oddly warm against his pale skin. And then a bright, orange flash of light erupted from the bracelet, surprising Augusto to such a degree that he lost his balance on the bar stool and fell on his back against the tiled floor, knocking the wind out of him, his legs still somewhat dangled in the pieces of wood stabilizing the legs. He would've groaned, had this been under any other circumstances, but he was too caught up with the flash of light. Or, rather, what became of it.

Some sort of creature-bug-thing had materialized in front of him, with a head bigger than most of its body. To Augusto, it seemed somewhat like a bobblehead The creature seemed somewhat like a tiger, with the signature orange with black stripes. It's belly-area was white, and it had little tufts of white on the end of its stubby little arms that seemed to resemble paws, not to mention the little tiger

This wasn't the oddest feature of the creature, though, as it was currently _floating_ in front of him, staring at him with large, rust-colored eyes that currently shined in a questioning manner.

"Didn't you wielders train for years to use the miraculous? And aren't you supposed to be a bit… older?" The creature asked, "Nevermind; what year is it, and how did the Ladybug and Black Cat miraculous wielders go rogue?

Augusto, caught completely off-guard, simply staring at the creature, paired with opening and closing his mouth, yet no words seeming to come out.

The creature waited patiently for a reply, simply raising its eye-ridge in a questioning manner.

He Argentine teen simply stopped trying to talk and took a moment to recompose himself and get off the floor, untangling his legs, all with the creature simply watching.

Once he was done, he started, "First of all, not to be rude, but _what are_ you?"

The creature gave him a stare that made Augusto feel like a moron, "You've trained for over a decade to wield a miraculous… and you don't even know what a kwami is."

"I was supposed to be trained? And for a decade? I'm not even seventeen yet," Augusto replied, staring at the now-named kwami.

The kwami gave him a suspicious look, then flew circles around the teen, eyeing him from his PJ tank-top, to his hastily put on gym shorts, and to his sock-clad feet.

"You definitely don't _look_ like you're from 16th century Florence," the kwami murmured. "Obviously. It's the early 21st century," Augusto gestured at his pajama-wear.

The kwami froze upon the comment, tilting its head much like a cat would. "So it's been around five hundred years since I last had to depose the Ladybug and Black Cat wielders. Huh."

"You mean Ladybug and Chat Noir?"

"What? They're still around? Are they running a dictatorship, are they waging a war?" the kwami immediately shot off a bunch of questions, with each seeming worse than the previous.

Unnerved, Augusto simply replied, "No, no, no. Ladybug and Chat Noir are superheroes protecting Paris."

"Superheroes? Paris?" the kwami echoed.

"Yes. They are superheroes. In Paris," Augusto enunciated, gesturing towards the nearest windows.

"That's odd. I'm typically only activated when the wielders have gone rogue," the kwami said. Augusto shrugged, "Maybe they have gone rogue, I don't know. I'm not exactly part of their little superpowered group."

"Then you'll have to do some reconnaissance to see if they have or have not gone rogue," the kwami instructed.

"Alright, first of all, we need to get our priorities straight. So, what is your name?" This was honestly all going _way_ too fast for Augusto. The kwami gave a sigh and did a motion that resembled a human pinching the bridge of their nose, "I'm guessing you have little to no training, do you?"

He shook his head.

"Alright, I guess we'll just have to make it up as we go. I'm Rybbo, the tiger kwami," the now-named Rybbo told the teenager, "And I give powers."

Augusto became wide-eyed in a bizarre mixture of excitement, terror, and simply surprise, "So I'm going to be like Ladybug and Cat Noir? Suit and everything?"

The kwami nodded, "Yep."

"Just say 'Rybbo, stripes on!' and you'll be transformed."

"I'm guessing I say 'Rybbo, stripes off!' to detransform?"

The kwami simply replied with, "Mhm."

Eager, Augusto quickly said "Rybbo, stripes on!" before the kwami could explain further, with Rybbo sighing in exasperation as he was sucked into the miraculous, muttering, "Newbies."

In a flash of orange light, Augusto wasn't wearing his PJs anymore. Instead, he was wearing some sort of traditional robes he had seen in history shows. He seemed a bit like a ninja, with airy upper sleeves and legs, but with wrapped forearms and lower legs. His footwear was some sort of sandal-boot-hybrid, and his torso had a leather shoulder pauldron on his left shoulder. It had a bandolier attaching it, and on the bandolier was a myriad of weapons, some lethal and some not (he actually saw ancient swords and daggers on it). The outfit itself had a color palette similar to Rybbo's, with a white belly area, and the outer coats in orange, occasionally broken up by black stripes.

He quickly became aware of a foreign feeling in his rear, and he quickly looked back to realize that he had a tail. Not like Chat Noir's tail, that was a belt, but a legitimate, honest-to-god tail.

He looked at the isle, with its extremely reflective surface acting as a mirror. His hair was much redder than its original color of reddish-brown, and it had also grown out more, looking wilder than before, even though it was in a swept-back style. Somehow, it managed to look both wild and orderly. Not to mention the two large tiger ears on his head.

The area around his eyes was obscured by a domino mask that covered most his nose as well, with an orange base color and black stripes intertwined.

"_Like it?" _Rybbo's voice echoed in his head. Bewildered, Augusto looked around, trying to spot the tiger-like creature.

"_I'm inside your head."_

"That's pretty creepy, but alright. My costume is a bit too… ancient? It isn't something that would fit in with today's trends."

"_The miraculous outfit is based off of two main factors; your taste and my knowledge. My most recent knowledge of fashion dates back to 16__th__ century Florence, but an Eastern outfit seemed more akin to your tastes. Show me a few paintings and such, and the miraculous will make a main outfit accordingly, along with a few side ones to help you if you need to blend in with the rest of the crowd._

0-0-0

After about half an hour of poring over clothes (and oddly some firearms and weapons), as well as Augusto best explaining electronics to Rybbo as he could, Augusto had an outfit he was satisfied with.

The outfit itself was modular, and parts of it could be used for different side suits that would help him if he ever needed to hide in plain sight.

He had the same domino mask, hairstyle, and ears. His torso was clothed in a sleek jacket/hoodie that could be unzipped to reveal his bare torso (much to his confusion, it felt comfortable). On the left shoulder, there was a more modern version of the pauldron before. A tiger claw design was on the shoulder pad itself, while the bandolier was made of leather and held multiple weapons (Augusto noticed some kind of throwing knife with a thin rope attached to it), many of which Augusto had never seen or touched in his life. It also had a few storage pouches, along with the jacket's zip pockets. The hood itself could be put over his tiger ears, and they'd somehow magically move to accommodate this, so they'd be attached to the hoodie instead of Augusto's head.

His tail was similar to Chat Noir's, though a much more 'heavy duty' approach was taken. It was longer and was made of thick and reinforced (somehow) leather.

He wore gloves made of some material that was a mix between rubber and latex, reaching to his mid-forearms. Retractable claws were at the edge of every finger, and Augusto still didn't understand how the claws worked. He had swiftly learned not to question it, though, as Rybbo would simply reply, "Magic."

His pants were similar to the old design, with somewhat airy thighs and skintight ankles, but with a carrying pouch strapped to each. The ankles were there because of the black combat boots that perfectly matched his shoe size.

What surprised him more were the weapons. Or, rather, the abundancy of them. He had counted three pistols, two magical rifles slung across his back, one bolt action, the other interchangeable between semi-automatic and full auto, two swords in their scabbards on his hip, and three daggers sheathed in his bandolier. Oddly enough, they weren't physically strapped to his back unless Augusto mentally pictured them there, so he could reach back and grab them.

The kwami had told him that the bottom pouch on his bandolier held all the ammo he'd need and specified the two rifles, with the bolt-action being a Lebel Model 1886 rifle (to fit with them being in Paris, Rybbo had told him) and the newer M4A1 (which had caught the kwami's attention, and the miraculous ultimately deemed it a fit weapon for Augusto). The three pistols were a No. 3 Schofield Revolver, a Colt M1911, and an M9.

There was no way Augusto would memorize these weapons, so had taken to cleanly painting numbers on all of them, with P and R standing for pistol and rifle respectively, followed by numbers.

The blades however, all looked the same to him except for size, and Rybbo didn't even bother explaining them, except for the throwing blade. It resembled a kunai, and could be thrown by Augusto and used as a sort of grapple. The string might've been thin, but Rybbo explained that this was magic, and that magic didn't abide by the laws of physics, and that the string could actually carry as much as three elephants (when asked _how_ he knew that, he simply replied with "It's been tested".)

Everything was finished off with a tiger pattern. The outfit itself had a white belly area, and an orange color everywhere else, broken up by black stripes. His weapons and equipment just had black stripes on top of the orange base color.

As Augusto looked at himself in the mirror, he thought he looked relatively stylish. Everything seemed well though-out and planned, as if some fashion designer had created the outfit, and not some teen throwing something together for his first time as a superhero.

Lowering his transformation, he plopped down at the chair of his desk, "So why do I need so many weapons?"

Rybbo explained, "Well, the Ladybug and Cat miraculous are both the most powerful miraculous. This means that they can interfere with magic that is used against them. So, if you were to face off against them, many of your weapons would be gone, and you'd be down to one or two armaments. Three if they're inexperienced, but that has only happened twice before."

"Alright then, when do I get to go out on my first run?" Augusto grinned eagerly.

"What time is it?"

Augusto checked his phone, "Nine forty-eight in the morning."

The kwami seemed to be thinking, "I don't want you going out in costume anytime before midnight for now."

The Argentine teen frowned a bit, "Why?"

"Because that's typically the safest time for a newbie."

Reluctantly, Augusto conceded to the kwami's point, and braced himself for what would be an arduous wait.

**0-0-0**

**AN: I am back! No, I did not die, contrary to popular belief and the numerous PMs I've been getting. So the last couple of months have been crazy for me, as I'm still looking for a good college, had some relatively large family-related issues, and just a generally shitty time in general. My old laptop's keyboard broke, so I'm using a plug-in external keyboard, so that should explain any spelling error that slipped past Word audio dictating.**

**Having rewatched Miraculous Ladybug (which is **_**miraculously**_** still on Netflix) and steadily reading fanfics for the better part of the year, I got back into the fandom, and decided to rewrite one of my somewhat old works, by the name of The Bengal Tiger. I could barely get through it, as the cringe was strong. So here I am, revamping my old work because I really am swamped for ideas.**

**Moving on, one thing I despise is when an OC is already more or equally as important as the original MCs (E.g.: Say Larry, an OC, is best friends and/or a sibling to either Marinette or Adrien). It just gets on my nerves, and it's typically a red flag for somewhat poor story-telling. So that's why when I make an OC, I try to either keep them completely separate from the MCs, or have them interact by circumstances that are likely and believable (and the original superheroes of Paris noticing a completely new superhero who is also packing heat is VERY likely.)**

**Continuing with my impromptu 'rant', the night scene is going to be a new experience for me. Contrasting with the rest of the superpowered gang, the powers of the tiger miraculous don't actually give you the actual strength to hop from building to building like in the canon. So my OC will have to move around in a more Assassin's Creed type of style. And considering that he'll be doing this in the middle of the night, not the day, and we have a completely different scene on our hands.**

**Finishing, I'm going to gradually start going back into fanfiction. So, as always, review! It's a MAJOR motivation to continue fics and to keep working on chapters.**

**PS: This follows the AU lore I set up in the original, with the original six miraculous and whatnot.**


	2. Chapter II: The Test

0-0-0

The rest of the day had been spent trading information and even some stories. Rybbo had many stories to tell from times dating back to even classical Greece, and actually put down a lot of myths Augusto had shown him online. This was tacked on with the kwami's explanation of his needs, like being fed and a couple hours of sleep.

In exchange, Augusto introduced the kwami to the modern world. He covered many general topics for most of the day, explain things the best he could, and getting the food from Lara, until the clock finally struck twelve in the night. And when it did, the two had exchanged enough information for both to rationalize what was happening.

Augusto had decided to prepare himself for a long night of leaping around Paris by taking a nap at around ten PM, along with the small kwami who slept in midair, an amusing yet simultaneously mind-boggling issue for the Argentine's teen brain.

"Rybbo, stripes on!" grinned Augusto, this time noticing the surge of confidence and power that came with the transformation. It was very sharp, yet pleasant, in a way he couldn't quite explain. It felt like warm, energetic water dancing on your skin. It wasn't an apt explanation, but it'd make sense to Miraculous wielders (at least the tiger ones).

In a second, he wasn't Augusto Vega anymore. The issue was that he didn't really have a name as of yet. He had previously learned that most of the past tigers literally just used the name 'Tiger', as they only wielded the Miraculous temporarily, and usually no one short of the person who gave them the Miraculous knew that the Tiger even existed.

Rybbo's voice wasn't speaking in his head as it had before, so Augusto guessed he was on his own. He looked at himself in the mirror for a few minutes, going over a list of names in his head. He'd keep the 'Tiger', for obvious reasons, but he needed another word. He narrowed down a list of around twenty names to two names; Striped Tiger and Bengal Tiger.

After a few seconds, he leaned towards Bengal Tiger. Mostly because people could either call him 'Bengal' or 'BT' for short. 'Striped' doesn't sound as good, and 'ST' is very misleading, as it seemed to be spelling a very different series of letters.

"Bengal Tiger it is," he grinned to himself in the mirror, his eyebrows raising a bit and his mask moving to accommodate that. He then noticed that his bandolier was feeling a bit emptier than last time. And then he realized it was because the pistols and their holsters were gone. Under normal circumstances, he would've detransformed and asked Rybbo, but he was much too eager for his first run. He turned around heading for one of the windows. Taking a moment to admire his gauntlets, he quickly unlatched the window lock, opened it, and leaped out.

It was a bad move, as he pretty much momentarily forgot everything in his eagerness, and faceplanted into the grass around the house, his tail shooting straight up like an exclamation point. He was shrouded by darkness, though the loud thump had warded some nervous stares from people still walking around. He let out a quiet groan, rubbing his chest for a moment, before standing up.

He then remembered the knife that he had. He quickly pulled it out of its sheathe, checking if the string was there. Sure enough, it was. "Alright," he mumbled, "Let's give this a try."

He experimented for a few moments, seeing in which way he could throw it with the most comfort. He followed his gut, and pretty quickly decided that simply having his right hand next to his left shoulder was the most natural. He was somewhat nervous about throwing it, but, yet again, his eagerness was overriding any sort of sense of caution he'd usually have about interacting with most potentially lethal weapons, not that he handled such things on a regular basis.

Augusto furrowed his brows, concentrating on one of the rooftops of the buildings across the street. He then swiftly snapped his right arm outwards, and the small blade miraculously landed exactly where he had been aiming for.

He gave the string a tug, somewhat confused, "So, do I just tug or- WOAH!"

The exclamation came out of nowhere, as the string abruptly started pulling him towards the knife. The out-of-place shout also caught the attention of the many citizens that just so happened to be walking on the sidewalk at the exact time that Bengal Tiger was abruptly yanked into the air and soared over them.

Many had their phones out and snapped photos of him midair. Thankfully, Augusto's instincts with photos were pretty simple; he'd always default to a stoic face. And it stayed true even now, when he was in a moment of sheer terror and thrilling surprise.

He was a flash of orange, zooming past the Parisian streetlights. Had he not been transformed, and the powers contain heightened reaction times, he would've smacked face first into beige stone. But he didn't, thankfully, and actually gripped onto a windowsill that miraculously carried his weight. He was dully felt the clink of the knife dislodging from its position and sliding into his hand.

He quickly took a moment to compose himself, hanging three stories from the ground by a plain _windowsill_. Oddly enough, he was barely feeling any strain at all in his arms. He decided that he'd simply let tiger instincts take over, and _oh boy_, was that a great decision. His feet immediately searched for footholds and found one, with Augusto not even bothering to look down. He simply launched himself up, left hand launched out and grasping for the roof edge, right arm pressed firmly against his torso while clasping the kunai-dagger-rope-thing.

His hand grasped the metal roof edge, and he effortlessly yanked himself up, his tail whipping in an expression of excitement. He grinned widely, putting his hands on his hips and turning around to face the street. He quickly slipped the grin off and replaced it with a flat line of a mouth, but had a masked eyebrow quirked up in amusement as he stared down at the street filled with people snapping photos of him.

"You may call me the Bengal Tiger. And no, I'm not an akuma," he swapped his pose for clasping his hands behind his back in a sort of power-pose, puffing his chest out. And with that quick display, he turned around and started sprinting, enjoying the wind in his hair. He wasn't feeling taxed at all!

He grinned as he saw the expanse of Paris in all of its glory, the night making everything contrast. The night was warm, at a pleasant 79° F (Around 26° C). Now that he knew the basics of maneuvering around as the Bengal Tiger, everything was much easier. When it came to leaping across roads, he'd typically leap, land on the wall, and then grab something and jump up towards the roof. Most streets, though, he could clear in a leap. And when either of those weren't possible, he'd unsheathe his knife and use it as a grapple in a way similar to Ladybug's yoyo.

He also dully noticed that he was starting to make a stir, with countless people taking pictures and videos as he leaped around. He didn't pay much mind, though, as he simply continued his journey to nowhere in particular. After a few minutes of doing this, he spotted a small park he could relax at. The park was also next to a bakery, but he wouldn't really be able to take advantage of that as he had no money on him. He also noticed that it was almost across the street from his school that had attended during the schoolyear, and would do so again once the summer ended.

He quickly wondered why he had never took note of the nice-looking park practically next to his school, but he chalked it up to the path between the school and his house, with him coming from east of the school and the park being a building line west from it.

He shrugged it off for the moment, fluidly leaping down from the roof of one of the building he was standing, abruptly scaring a few people. "Uh, sorry," he stated awkwardly, giving a somewhat shy grin to the people he had spooked.

Before they could respond, he quickly dropped down on all fours and sprinted across the road before another car could pass, and then stood up on the other side, pretending to brush himself off.

The park was relatively empty, being so late at night, but a few night owls were still there, and a few were staring at him. Augusto was slightly confused as to why they weren't as interested as people had been before, but he guessed it was because he looked like some off-the-rails cosplayer when not legitimately doing flips and leaping around.

A few other park-goers were on their phone, sitting on benches, and enjoying the pleasant weather. Almost every bench was occupied by at least one person, so that decimated any hope of having a bench all to himself. Normally, if he was Augusto, he'd simply just put his hands in his pockets and go back home, but he wasn't Augusto. He was the Bengal Tiger. The mask and powers gave him a bit more confidence, and it's not like sitting next to someone on a park bench was something that needed courage.

So, swallowing any fear he had, he walked to closest bench, where a young, brunette lady was sitting. Without looking up, she said, "I already have a boyfriend, thank you."

"I was going to ask if this spot was occupied," Augusto replied, his voice completely monotone, a stark contrast from the awkward tone he had sported a minute before.

The lady looked up at him, with annoyed eyes and a frown, "What are you, some sort of drunk cosplayer?"

"Cosplayer? I'm a genuine miraculous wielder," he told her bluntly, clasping his hands behind his back and standing up straight. _I feel a bit taller than before_, he mused.

She laughed harshly, "Ha! You? A genuine miraculous wielder? Yeah, and I'm the Queen of France."

He quirked an eyebrow up, his mask morphing to accommodate it, "With looks like yours? Queen of the Sewer Rats would be more accurate."

The lady froze in shock, then shouted out, "Ugh! Fucking cosplayers! Get your ass away from me!"

Augusto pinched the bridge of his nose in an exasperated manner, "Lady, if I was a cosplayer, would I be able to do _this_?"

To emphasize, he whipped his tail sideways and twitched his ears. Her eyes widened and her mouth simply gaped open. She then proceeded to get up and walk away with a blank look on her face, with Augusto guessing she was going to rethink everything she called him.

Everyone else in the park was muttering among themselves.

He abruptly yawned, with no sort of warning. "Must be pretty late," Augusto muttered to himself, slightly annoyed that he forgot about a watch. Or any sort of weapon that was multi-use, like the weapons used by the main Miraculous users.

He quickly catapulted himself on to another building, heading home to make a few changes and test them out.

**0-0-0**

**Chat Noir**

"Plagg!"

"Yes, Adrien?" the sleepy cat kwami awoke from his sleep. Morning light was shining in through the room's large windows. It wasn't much, though, barely enough to actually alert Plagg to the general time.

"Am I the only Miraculous wielder with a cat-themed Miraculous?" Adrien asked.

This question came as a surprise to Plagg, and it fully woke him up enough to take in the situation. According to Adrien's clock, it was 6:15 in the morning, and Adrien was sitting at his computer, on the LadyBlog, with some video set to fullscreen.

"As far as I know," Plagg replied, zipping over to Adrien's shoulder, "Why?"

"Well, because last night, a 'knock-off Chat Noir' was spotted around Paris, leaping over buildings and generally running around in the city."

Adrien had been awoken by his alarm clock fifteen minutes ago. He usually woke up an hour later, but it seemed he had made a mistake when setting his alarm clock for the next morning. Having nothing to do, he had gotten ready and decided to check the LadyBlog. He had been greeted by discussions, videos, and post about a new, mysterious superhero. The latest post was at two AM, which meant that Alya had gone ballistic about this new hero.

It was slightly worrisome, as they didn't appear to be any sort of akuma, as the hero had simply been running about Paris, but it was primarily the possibly _lethal_ weapons that they carried. Adrien counted two swords sheathed on their hips, and a bandolier strapped across their chest filled with at least two knives, and that's not even counting the blade that was similar to a kunai that the mystery-hero had used in a manner similar to Ladybug's yoyo.

Many of the discussion posts on the LadyBlog were of concern, whether it be of the weapons or the newcomer's general attitude, thanks to a video taken by someone at a park. Adrien wasn't sure what to think about it. On one hand, he was somewhat worried about the miraculous user's intentions, and on the other, he thought it pretty cool that he had some sort miraculous-bonded brother, even if the relation was somewhat flimsy.

What he knew for certain, though, was that he and his lady were going to have a long chat about this.

**0-0-0**

**The Bengal Tiger**

He had done some major re-arrangements regarding his suit's appearance. He had looked it over again and decided to streamline the relatively messy look it had.

He had left everything on his head and the belt-tail the same, but everything else was reworked. He now wore a patterned bodysuit, much more similar to Cat Noir's. His lower torso and inner thighs now were white, like a tiger's underbelly, and the rest was orange with black stripes. This was paired with two black sashes, one going across his hips and the other acting as a bandolier. His hands had much tighter gauntlets on now, not dissimilar to surgeon gloves, but remained with the retractable claws. He also had pockets built into the suit's arms, where he was currently storing fifty euros in case he needed to buy anything while in Tiger form.

Following these design changes, he had spent the rest of the night leaping about Paris' skyline, not realizing the time until the sun had started poking over the western horizon, and even then, he stayed out.

In those six or so hours, he had learned many things thanks to the guidance of Rybbo. He had learnt about Hunter's Vision, the Tiger wielder's special power, like Chat Noir's Cataclysm and Ladybug's Lucky Charm. Basically, he had an almost surreal connection to the outside world. Anything that had a pulse within a twenty-meter radius, Augusto would know its exact location and actions. The first time had tried it, he could see pretty much through the entire building he had been standing on. He had also been unlucky enough to have seen a couple _doing the deed_ in one of the apartments and he had immediately called it quits after that. Where he had learned that he would time out after using his powers. Running on fumes, he quickly got home, and fed Rybbo some cooked meat he found in the fridge.

He had also tried firing the firearms, but quit soon after, not comfortable with the thought of using them. The blades, he was still on the fence about. The kunai-rope-dagger thing (which really needed a name, actually) was still fair game in Augusto's eyes as it primarily served for transportation, and not much else.

When it came to his energy levels, he felt as if it was early afternoon, even though it was around seven thirty in the morning and he hadn't slept at all. Even after a night of leaping through Paris, he barely felt winded and was yet to feel some sort of strain.

He grinned, sitting on the rooftop facing the park he had first visited in his new form. He was sitting peacefully, enjoying the view he got from up there. That was until the smell of freshly-made pastries wafted his way. Usually, he would only catch a fleeting whiff or maybe even a full inhalation if he was lucky, but now, the aroma was overpowering. For a moment when he closed his eyes, he thought he was in some sort of pastry heaven. The smell of the confections promptly reminded him that he hadn't eaten anything since the prior day at ten.

He followed his nose, and quickly noticed the bakery next to the park. He didn't know how he had missed it before, but one thing was for certain; he hadn't missed it now.

Even from this distance, he could see clearly that a man inside was flipping the CLOSED sign, making it read OPEN. He looked inside the zipper pocket on his left bicep, making sure that he had fifty euros (he did), and launched from the roof like a rocket. He landed deftly on the grass of the park, startling a few morning-goers, and then catapulting over one of the iron-barred walls, landing neatly in front of the door. This had all been under ten seconds, and he had covered over thirty meters.

In these ten seconds, though, the man inside had turned his back, not seeing the teen's acrobatic feats. Augusto simply shrugged and walked in, a small bell ringing to alert the owners of his presence. The ringing sounded harsh and very loud to his ears, for some reason.

"Welcome to the Dupain-Cheng bak-" the man had turned around, hearing the bell, and started what was most likely a standard greeting, but his words died in his mouth the second he saw his customer.

Augusto internally chuckled at the man's reaction, a mixture of surprise and confusion. He glanced over to the counter to see a woman, about the man's age, have a similar, yet much milder, reaction. It was more surprise than anything, though. It was only a widening in her eyes, but to the Bengal Tiger's eyes, it was clear as day.

"Dupain-Cheng bakery, right?" he took a gander at guessing the man's sentence.

He simply nodded, closing his mouth.

"Do you do _alfajores_ or _turrones_?" he asked, his voice monotone.

The woman, most likely the man's wife, was quick to recover, "We don't have any of those, sorry."

Augusto lowered his eyebrows a little, a small gesture of disappointment, but he was hungry, "What do you have, then?"

"Macaroons, croissants, pretty much most standard French pastries, but with a Dupain-Cheng twist," the lady grinned at the last part.

"Eclairs?" Augusto asked.

"Yep!" the man next to Augusto stated, seemingly coming out of his stupor.

"Okay, how much would it cost for a chocolate Eclair?" he asked, looking at his shoulder-pocket.

"Four euros," replied the man.

"I'll take four then," the teenager said, holding up four fingers.

"Coming right up!" the man then walked behind the counter and got to work on making the pastries with his wife. Sensing that it would take some time, Augusto slid over into one of the tables next to the window, leaning back. Paris in the early hours of the morning was like nothing Augusto had ever seen. Sure, he usually woke up at seven on the dot, but he rarely looked out on the street.

The foot traffic was a given, and many people were still walking where-ever. But the main thing that astounded him was that there weren't as many cars as he was used to.

His mind then wandered towards his attitude. Superheroes had a sort of trademark personality, right? Cat Noir was goofy, Ladybug was all business but with some jokes, Rina Rouge was somewhat mischievous and playful, and Carapace was protective. So maybe he should follow suit, and make up a personality. Well, not make up, but alter his original as to not attract any attention. He quickly decided to for a more dry-humored and monotone personality. He didn't know why, but it simply seemed to fit in an odd way.

"Yes, maman?" a groggy, younger voice pulled him out of his thoughts. His eyes snapped over to the counter, or rather behind it, where a girl around his age appeared out of a door.

His mind, almost instinctively, went into "Girl!" mode, where he pretty much had an internal melt-down and became absentminded. But then he realized that he wasn't Augusto right now. Rather, he was the Bengal Tiger. He was still getting used to the social effects that taking up an entirely new identity could hold, though.

The bakerwoman (Augusto didn't know what to call her) quickly walked over to the girl, presumably her daughter, and said, "Sweety, we need you to put that batch of Eclairs your father made in the oven. Do you think you can do that without tripping?"

The girl seemed somewhat confused, "Customers, at this time of the day? During the summer?"

With that, she glanced over to the seating area, immediately noticing the stripe-clad boy. Her eyes widened a bit but were more out of recognition more than anything. And abruptly, the recognition disappeared, with confusion replacing it. For a second, Augusto feared that his identity was compromised, but he didn't remember her from anywhere. If he didn't remember her, there was a good chance she didn't know who he was.

She took a tray of something (Augusto wasn't at an angle to see) and put it in the oven, whispering to her mother, "Is that Chat Noir?"

Normally, it was at such a volume that he would've barely heard it a meter away from her, but he could clearly hear her across the bakery.

"I don't know, Marinette, but he's a customer."

Marinette. That was her name. Augusto added that to his mental contact list, which was surprisingly sparse, short of his family and some other assorted names. His ears twitched a bit at him being thought of as Cat Noir. He wanted to be a hero in his own right.

"Order's done!" the girl stated, waiting at the cashier stand. Bengal nodded, sliding out of his seat in a very cat-like manner, and walked over to the where the girl was standing, hesitant to make eye contact. He could feel her questioning gaze, though, "That'll be sixteen euros."

Augusto nodded, reaching into his shoulder pocket and pulling out said amount of euros and handing them to the girl. She checked the amount of money and nodded, handing him a small bag with four chocolate Eclairs in them, just as he had asked for.

He stood still for a millisecond before deciding to start testing his new persona, stating in a very monotone yet slightly playful voice, "I'm not Cat Noir, by the way."

Before being able to see the girl's reaction, he turned around and walked out of the bakery.

**0-0-0**

**Ladybug**

Marinette wasn't sure how to feel about the events that had just come to pass. At first, she thought it was Chat in some silly get-up. But it obviously wasn't Chat, though, and she had quickly noticed the difference in mannerisms. Chat was goofy and lively, while this person was much more restrained and dulled.

And then she thought that it might've been an Akuma, but it wasn't hurting anyone or doing anything.

She eventually came to the conclusion that it must be a rogue miraculous user. The boy looked to be around her age, but with a voice like the one she just heard, she wasn't so sure. It sounded much closer to a twenty-year-old's.

She felt incredibly nervous about the fact that there was a miraculous user that hadn't gotten their miraculous via her or Cat Noir. Maybe she had lost one, like with Chloé and her transformation into Queen Bee. But that wasn't likely, as she never recalled being given a tiger miraculous by Master Fu. Now that she thought about it, was there _even_ a tiger miraculous? Well, it was either that or some boy was just really good at cosplay. But with the way his ears moved and tail seemed to slowly sort of just laze around and occasionally twitch, it was most likely the fore.

Marinette quickly made up the excuse of having to use the bathroom, told her parents as much, and used that time to check the LadyBlog. Due to having to wake up extra-early to help her parents out in the bakery, her sleep-deprived brain had pretty much skipped her everyday morning routine. And that included checking Alya's site.

She had expected a few reports and discussion posts, but when she typed the address into the search bar, it was pretty much all tiger-boy news. Scrolling through all the posts, there were photos of the boy, which she now knew as 'Bengal Tiger', doing a few things. Primarily, it was leaping through Paris. There was a lot of concern regarding Bengal's potentially lethal weapons. Marinette, taking a closer look at the photos, realized that he carried an array of bladed weapons, and in a few photos he even had firearms.

She then decided that she needed to make a 'threat assessment'. She had never had the need before, but now she had an unchecked miraculous user with potentially lethal weapons. Maybe she could take to Master Fu.

She was dragged out of her thoughts as screaming could be heard from outside alongside a person screaming, "Akuma!"

_**AN: So, that was the second chappie of 'The Tiger of Paris'. I think it's pretty good, honestly. Anyways, as always, leave a review after checking it out! Makes me finish chapters way faster!**_


	3. Chapter III: The Outing

**0-0-0**

**The Bengal Tiger**

He had first been alerted to the Akuma's presence by all the screaming. Prior, he had been enjoying his éclairs, surprised by how good they tasted, but still mentally noting that they didn't hold a candle to alfajores.

Perched on the roof of the bakery, he had a decent view of the street in front of him. The Akuma itself had come from behind him. Normally, the screaming would have been almost deafening by itself, but for Augusto, it was like someone had just started playing a broken violin next to his ear. Taking a second to orient himself again because of the sheer decibels he had been exposed to, he turned around to see an Akuma.

The Akuma itself was an abnormality, if his memory served him right. All of the past Akumas were creative and didn't cause any real pain, like with weapons. Sure, _some_ had weapons, but they never used them as actual weapons, like with the knight-themed Akuma.

This one carried sword bigger than themselves and wore samurai armor that looked like it belonged in Edo Japan, not modern-day Paris. Augusto momentarily contemplated getting involved. "Ladybug, Chat Noir, give me your miraculous!" the Akuma commanded to no one in particular.

The Akuma strode onto the street, carrying their weapon in front of them as if ready to attack. It abruptly slammed the sword into a streetlight, causing the metal pole to fall over and make the street crack the tiniest bit.

_Yup, I'm going to get involved whether I like it or not._

With this in mind, Augusto shoved the rest of the éclair completely into his mouth (He was determined to finish it), quickly swallowed it while packing the rest of his éclairs in the baggie, which he then proceeded to put inside the pocket of his suit.

He smoothly stood up and started sprinting on top of the roof, stopping at the end. The Akuma was wildly looking around, presumably for the two aforementioned Miraculous users. When the Akuma wasn't looking, he deftly and silently jumped off the roof and landed on the street, leaning on one of the streetlights in a very 'devil may care' manner.

"I doubt you'll get their Miraculous by slicing streetlights, swordy," he stated, his voice completely monotone, yet loud.

The Akuma wheeled on him, baring his weapon in front of him, "The name's Katanamonger!"

"And the difference is?" Augusto responded, mentally willing his pistols to appear. He was hoping he wouldn't have to use them, but their presence alone should have a desirable effect. He felt the weight of the pistols suddenly appear on his legs, but this was paired with rapid footsteps. His ears twitched in the direction of said footsteps, and his eyes followed. He crossly found the LadyBlog girl, crouching down and filming the whole confrontation.

His eyes returned to Katanamonger, who had said something he hadn't caught, "Alright, so you have two options. We do this quick and you give up the Akuma, as I haven't had breakfast today and I'm starving, or do this hard and you get a whooping."

Katanamonger stood completely still for a moment, before sprinting towards Augusto.

His heightened reflexes saved him from what could've been a possibly fatal blow, as he rolled out of the way, grabbing two pistols as he did. When he stood up, he aimed them at the Akuma, "Put your weapon down, or I'll shoot!"

Everyone froze.

For the teen, it felt like the world had paused at that exact moment. The LadyBlogger had a shocked expression on her face and Katanamonger looked more curious than anything. "Ha! You expect me to believe that? You Miraculous users are way too moral to use weapons!"

"You'll find I'm more morally ambiguous than anything," Augusto shrugged. He stated the truth, as well.

"Then I dare you to do it!"

And he did. He squeezed the triggers, his ears folding back against his head at the sound of the bullet firing. He had aimed for the sword, and it seemed his aim was true, as a second later, the sword was knocked from Katanamonger's hands, who was very surprised. A quick glance at the LadyBlogger told him that she was just as surprised.

He took advantage of this momentary surprise to run at the Akuma, holstering his pistols and pulling out his Kunai (what he had named the rope-dart-thing). "Whooping it is!" he shouted, leaping at the Akuma. He had been too eager, though, and the Akuma recovered from their stupor, grabbed their sword, and swung at Augusto.

By some miracle, the Akuma had been sloppy and grabbed the sword wrong, resulting in the flat side slamming into Augusto. Even so, it hit hard enough that he was knocked into the wall of a building across the street.

It _hurt_. His vision was shaky at best, and he could barely make out individual shapes. A horrid ringing in his ears prevented him from hearing much, and the sheer pain that pulsed through his head and torso was enough to momentarily incapacitate him.

Thankfully, it only lasted for about a couple seconds before it started to fade away. It took another three seconds to fully go away, and before he could push himself up onto his feet.

Except, by now, there was another Miraculous user to fill his place.

As his vision sharpened, he saw that Ladybug was already fighting the Akuma, leaping about and lashing at it with her Yo-yo.

He quickly regained his bearings and sprinted full force at the Akuma, unsheathing one of his knives. He made sure it was pre-occupied with Ladybug, not willing to make the same mistake twice. The Akuma turned away from him, attempting to block the heroine's Yo-yo. It was then that Bengal lunged forward, unsheathing one of his knives. And he was fast; he had overshot the Akuma, though, and the only reason he hadn't accidentally flung himself into the bakery windows was because he had stabbed a rather vicious-looking blade through the Akuma's helmet, anchoring himself to it. The following way that Katanamonger moved to shake off Bengal was like something that'd be observed on an animal, erratic movements to the point where, even with his enhanced vision, he could only see blurs.

If he hadn't been superpowered, he would've had broken ribs on both sides, a broken arm, and would have dislocated both of them.

"Try the sword!" Bengal shouted, still managing to keep his voice monotone.

"I figured that out already!" Ladybug responded.

"Then hurry up and break it!"

"I'm trying, but getting to the sword without becoming a pancake is harder than it looks!"

It was at that moment that the Akuma finally shook him loose, the knife losing its place. Bengal was, once again, flung away, but he had enough time to react. He deftly landed on a wall on his feet, and then sprung right back at the Akuma, holding his knife and aiming for the sword.

He quickly angled himself so that his knife would cleanly cut through the katana, and it did just that. The blade clattered on the ground, and as it did, Katanamonger fell to his knees. He dully wondered why the Akumas always did that, but his thoughts were interrupted as Ladybug shouted, "Lucky Charm!". Something red and black fell into her hands, and she threw it upwards, yelling, "Miraculous Ladybug!".

Now, an Asian man with a katana was kneeling where Katanamonger had previously been. He looked around in confusion, and then his eyes widened when he saw the katana in his hands.

"Tomorrow, ten PM, top of the Eiffel Tower," Ladybug told him before running to the man, presumably to help him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the LadyBlogger running towards him, most likely bursting with questions. Momentarily, he contemplated whether he should stick around or not. Before that train of thought could reach its end, though, she was already in front of him, asking a question.

He felt his ears twitch forward and his tail snap in slight annoyance, but he politely asked in a monotone voice, "What did you ask?"

"Ae you one of the new superheroes that sometimes appear alongside Lady Bug and Cat Noir?" she repeated.

He narrowed his eyes slightly, "No. I'm an independent user."

Her mouth started moving again, presumably to ask another question, but he quickly raised a finger to indicate silence, "I won't be answering any other questions. For today, at least. I stayed up through the night leaping about Paris, and as you would imagine, it's very tiring. So if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go home and pass out."

He turned around, before commenting, "Oh, and don't try to figure out who I am. I don't know you in my civilian life, and I'm not someone you'd hear about on the news."

And with that, he sprinted forward, leaping upwards and grabbing a windowsill, and then proceeded to thrust himself up onto the rooftops, aiming for his home. He leapt across Paris, getting a similar amount of attention previously, until he reached his destination and slid into his bedroom window.

The room was completely dark, save for a small desk light Augusto had left on in his room. It wasn't much of an issue, though, as the Bengal Tiger could see perfectly in the low light.

Him being tired was a complete lie, as he felt as energetic as ever when he crept in through his bedroom window, if not a little sore from his Akuma encounter.

It was then that he remembered the éclairs in his suit pocket. He unzipped said pocket, hoping that they were still in edible condition. Thankfully, they were, as they were only a bit squished. Grateful for the food, he quickly finished the rest and leapt on his bed, feeling the weight of his gear magically disappear, as did his gear (hopefully).

And then he realized how unbelievable his morning had been.

It felt like someone had punched him in the gut. Now, laying in his bed and looking at the ceiling, the recent events that had come to pass sunk in. He was now a miraculous user, wielding a jewel that had power comparable to Ladybug and Cat Noir's.

He grinned genuinely, a rarity for him nowadays. His uncle had frequently commented on how he rarely smiled sincerely.

He got up and grabbed his phone from his desk, and as the screen lit up, revealing a myriad of texts from both Lara and his uncle, asking where he was. His eyes glanced to the time.

_9:06? Shit, shit, shit!_

His eyes widened in panic, and his ears automatically started searching for any sounds. Sure enough, he could hear footsteps that belonged to Lara downstairs. He dropped his phone in his panic, and it was purely because of his instincts that it didn't slam him on the toe. Instead, it thudded against the floor.

"Auggy, is that you?"

He spent a second cursing in every language he knew, and then responded, "Yeah! It's me; I was taking a nap!"

"I'm coming up your room!" followed by heavy footsteps.

"Oh, son of a bitch," he muttered, and then followed it by whispering, "Rybbo, stripes off!"

The light was just as bright, but there was no sound. Maybe there was and Augusto didn't realize just because of how tired he felt at the moment. His legs were wobbly, his eyelids abruptly felt like the weighed more than the Louvre, and his mind was fighting off sleep.

He leaned backwards, gripping onto his desk to steady himself, hissing to his still-visible Kwami, "Hide!"

The kwami, somewhat tired, nodded and zipped away somewhere Augusto couldn't see. He quickly slapped himself to wake up a bit more. It worked, somewhat, and he was slightly more attentive for the time being. He was too tired to take notice of how much darker the room had become or Lara's footsteps outside his door.

Said door opened, revealing Lara in a casual outfit, "Oh, there you are! I checked in here already and you weren't here."

"I must've been hiding under the covers or something; I tend to do that when I sleep," he responded. It wasn't a complete lie, as he did tend to pull the covers up to his chin in sleep, but it wasn't to the point where one couldn't see him.

"I'll text your uncle that you're here. Your breakfast is on the dining room table, but I'm guessing you'll want to go back to sleep. You look like you haven't slept in days."

Augusto only nodded, feeling his mind slipping again, "Yeah, I'm going to go back to bed… lock the front door on your way out."

She nodded, exiting his room.

It was only then that Augusto could stumble across his room and collapse into his soft, heavenly bed.

**0-0-0**

**Alya Césaire**

To say that she was infuriated would've been putting it lightly, and like all people, she needed to vent. And _who_ did she end up venting to? Marinette.

"And Tiger-boy just silences me like some rando begging for an autograph!" Alya was pacing around Marinette's room, her shoulder's squared with tension.

The owner of the room sat on her bed with her legs crossed under her, listening to Alya's rants about "Tiger-boy". Apparently, the reporter had taken to calling him that in some vain attempt at annoying said boy.

Marinette was currently in between a rock and a hard place, as on one hand, she felt extremely irked towards the stripe-clad boy for angering her best friend, but on the other, she understood how annoying Alya could be when focusing on a goal in the single-mindedly way that she usually did. Had she been a slightly ruder person, she would've shut down Alya many times when the reporter was asking her questions as Ladybug.

"Well, he did say he was tired," Marinette offered weakly.

"I was just asking basic questions!"

"Well, wasn't he up from midnight? I'd be tired too if I had spent the whole night trapezing around Paris."

Alya stopped, taking a moment to compose herself, and exhaled, "I guess you're right. But still, I'm also irked about how he told me not figure out his identity."

Again, Marinette could relate to this on a personal level, but she ignored her Ladybug side. Alya had tried to figure out the identity of Ladybug on a number of occasions, and sometimes came very, _very_ close. All Marinette could really do was shrug and say, "Well, he's got a mask for a reason."

Alya sighed, before her phone abruptly went off. She quickly checked who was calling her, "Sorry, Marinette. I promised to babysit my sisters today and could barely get enough time to film the Akuma. Bye!"

Marinette bid her friend farewell as Alya left the room through the hatch while answering her phone.

**0-0-0**

**Augusto Vega**

**Four Hours Later**

Augusto woke in a very odd state. Usually, waking up was the worst part of his day, where his mind was drunk on the lack of activity and seemingly shut off, leaving his body to fend for himself. And Just-Woken-Up Augusto was how he managed to screw up things usually infants could do well.

Now, he felt uncomfortable and strangely alert. The lack of comfort stemmed from how hot he was underneath the blankets, which were usually relatively breathable. Usually, he enjoyed warmth, having grown up in an icy and frigid climate. Now, it felt more like he was burning up.

_Do I have a fever?_

He quickly raised his hand to his head; the temperature was warm, sure, but nothing outside of the norm. He also noted the lack of headaches, which were quite prominent when he woke up with fevers.

He kicked off his covers, his legs feeling oddly normal and not the odd mixture of tingling and stiffness they usually did.

He glanced around his room, spotting Rybbo on top of his desk. For a second, he completely forgot what had happened in the last twenty-four hours and nearly freaked out, but it all surged back to him.

Getting his Miraculous, staying up for the whole night, fighting the Akuma, everything. Rybbo was floating above his desk, in a sleeping position. The small kwami abruptly opened his eyes, raising his torso up into a sitting position, facing Augusto.

The tiny tiger-like creature simply stared at the confused teenager with a raised eye-ridge. "Your memories are messy," the kwami stated bluntly.

"What?" asked Augusto, flabbergasted as to what the magical being was referencing.

"I said your memories are messy, I was looking through them, and they're not ordered well."

"You've been looking through my memories?"

"Yes, I'm quite unique in my ability to do so. As the Tiger Miraculous was made to fit whatever style of assassination or kidnapping mastered by the wielder, I typically go through the memories of each wielder so I can get a better sense of their personality and combat record. As far as wielders go, you're quite a novice. You haven't ever gotten into a serious fight."

At this explanation, Augusto felt simultaneously intrigued yet that his privacy had been compromised, "What do you know about me?"

"Your full name is Augustine Leopoldo Vega, and you were born in southwestern Argentina. You were raised in a community up in the mountains, and you are a single child. Your dad, Montego, worked numerous jobs, while your mother, Catalina, typically stayed home with you. You lived with your two cousins, Angelito and Solana, along with your aunt, Daniela. At sixteen, you came to Paris to live with your wealthy Uncle for a few, relatively unclear reasons. And you have little to no social life," the Kwami rattled off, as if _he_ had been the one to live through all that instead of Augusto.

"You could have left the social life part out," the teen muttered to himself before looking at the Kwami, "And where did you get my permission to sift through my memories?"

"I didn't," the Kwami replied.

"Exactly, so why'd you do it anyways?"

"To optimize the outfit, and to get a better understanding of your character," Rybbo said this as if it should've been obvious.

Augusto pinched the bridge of his nose, "Just… don't do it again without notifying me."

Rybbo simply nodded, lowering to the point of sitting on his desk, "So, what are you going to do today?"

The teen hadn't been expecting that question, but he quickly scanned his mind for anything besides reading, sleeping, and browsing the internet. "I guess I could go to the bookshop. I need to buy the new _Theoretical Flux_ book, too."

The bookshop was block away, and it was essentially a corner-store. It was a pleasant place, though, in Augusto's mind. It was quiet, all the natural light and birch furnishings gave it an uplifting atmosphere, and few people came physically. Most of the store's funding came in through the online catalog and shipping service, though.

He also happened to be good friends with the store's owner.

"I never expected to have a linguist as wielder," Rybbo noted dryly, watching Augusto slip on some cargo shorts, shoes, and replacing his loose PJ shirt with a red-plaid t-shirt. "I'm an avid reader, not a linguist. A linguist and reader are too completely different things," the teen remarked.

"Not that different."

"_Pretty_ different. C'mon, let's go."

Augusto walked out of his room and down the stairs, quickly noticing the shopping bag in the kitchen filled with food. At the sight of said food, his stomach rumbled, quickly reminding him that four éclairs weren't enough to curb his energy needs

"Maybe we can eat first," Augusto shrugged before getting the food out. After eating all of the chicken nuggets (What could he say? He was still a child at heart.), salad, and most of the salmon (he gave Rybbo half of it), he grabbed his phone and twenty-five euros and set it out, with the Kwami safely tucked away in one of his pockets.

Augusto noticed how hot the day was as he walked, opening up his pocket a little bit to allow Rybbo some fresh air and a cooler breeze. Now that he thought about it, he had no idea whether he had an issue with hot temperatures or not. The sun's rays on his pale skin felt odd and much too warm, and he could only _guess_ how hot his dark hair was.

After suffering from the heat for a few minutes, he quickly reached the bookstore, entering it hastily. He couldn't get inside fast enough. He looked around, and he was the only one in the customer section, except for a girl around his age at the desk who had looked up from her phone.

He walked past, focusing on the bookstore. He quickly made his way to the Sci-Fi section, quickly glancing at the shelves in the historical section. He was a large fan of history books, but he could rarely find local bookstores that didn't stock primarily WW2 books. Sure, the genre was great and all, but there were so many other interesting parts in human history that were shoved to the wayside in favor of generic WW2 stories.

He looked over the shelves before quickly realizing that _Theoretical Flux_ wasn't on display. He groaned inwardly, this meant he'd have to talk to the girl up front. He slowly walked back, and then stopped in front of the front desk. The girl was on her phone again and didn't notice he was there until he awkwardly cleared his throat, grabbing her attention.

"Do you need any help?"

"Is the latest copy of _Theoretical Flux_ here?"

She turned to a computer on the desk, typing some names in. "Yeah, we have it in back. Do you want me to get it for you?" she asked, turning to look at him.

"Uh, yes," was Augusto's semi-embarrassing response. The girl simply nodded, standing up and walking through a door. The Argentinian teen quickly filed this experience away to the "Why I Don't Go Out More" file in his mind while he waiting, putting his hands in his pockets.

The girl came back from the back, holding the book and then proceeded to hand it to Augusto, "Seventeen euros."

The teen fished out the required number of euros out of his pocket and gave them to the girl. She quickly flipped through them, making sure it was the correct number, before placing them in the cash register and got back on her phone.

Augusto took this as his cue to leave, and he did so, walking out of the bookstore and into the sweltering heat, book in hand.

**0-0-0**

**Three Hours Later**

"And done," Augusto grunted as he flipped the last page of the book to find the back cover. Rybbo, from his perch on top of the teen's bedside lamp, stared at said teen with curious eyes, "You finished _that_ in a few hours?"

Augusto closed the book, looking up at the Kwami, "Yeah, this is pretty standard for me."

"Like I said; linguist," Rybbo stated.

"I'm _not_ a linguist."

"But you read books."

"Yes."

"So you're a linguist."

"I don't think you know what a linguist is."

"Maybe the meaning has changed since I was last active. No matter, what are your plans for the rest of the day?" the Kwami asked politely. Augusto felt slightly uncomfortable being asked this consistently on what he planned to do. He had never been one to stick to plans, with the read-a-thon at the beginning of summer being a rare exception.

"I don't have any plans," Augusto responded honestly. Rybbo stared at the teen intently, "Apart from seeing Ladybug tonight?"

The teen had completely forgotten about that.

To say that he was a bit overwhelmed at the prospect of meeting an international star, a bigger-than-life heroine alongside her partner with similar credentials would be a massive understatement. His mind quickly did a double-take to make sure he hadn't hallucinated the entire past twenty four hours or Akuma attack.

He hadn't been a huge fan of the two heroes before now. Sure, he liked their work and appreciated them keeping Paris safe, but he couldn't help but speculate about his goals and the two heroes. Hawkmoth wanted their Miraculous, specifically Ladybug's and Cat Noir's. He noticed this since the villain usually treated the two as number one priority, with any other hero as a sort of side-treat.

Still, he was meeting pretty much the original pair. Or just Ladybug. She didn't confirm Cat Noir's presence.

"Wielder?" Rybbo's voice brought Augusto out of his thoughts.

"Hmm?" The teen replied.

"You were lost in your thoughts, right?" the Kwami inquired, tilting his head, a very cat-like thing to do.

"Yeah, I tend to do that," confirmed the teen, standing up and placing the now-closed book on the bed. He quickly texted his uncle asking how things were, for a lack of better things to do. Eliano responded quickly, meaning he wasn't in a meeting or court; _Not well. Complications came up, and I might have to extend my stay._

That was one of the things that Augusto and his uncle shared; immaculate grammar in reference to written communication, short of some colloquialisms. He quickly shot back a text; _Where are you staying again?_

_Bellotto, why?_

_No reason._

_Alright. Well, talk to you later? I have another court hearing in a few minutes._

_Got it, see ya._

Augusto turned off his phone, haphazardly tossing it onto his bed, which was soon followed by the teen himself, plopping onto the mattress. "What to do, what to do, what to do," he mumbled to himself, momentarily forgetting the Kwami in the room.

"What do you do during free time?" he asked.

Augusto quickly thought back to the few times he had free time. He had grown up in the relatively unforgiving environment of the Andes mountain range, so there was always some chore to be done, like cutting firewood, transporting said firewood, cleaning the truck, wiping the windows, etc.

While he didn't want to do any chores, they were an effective way to kill time and they also helped keep the house in order.

But that wasn't much of an option in his uncle's house, as Augusto tended to keep to himself in his room, and his uncle was an immaculate person organization-wise. Any dust that collected was wiped away by Lara on a weekly basis, so that left very little to do in the ways of housekeeping.

He quickly came to the conclusion that he had barely had any free time in his life, and he didn't know whether that was good or bad. "I really don't know," he told the Kwami. Said Kwami hovered in midair over Augusto's face, holding his stubby hand to his chin in thought, "How about some training?"

**AN: Sorry about the long wait for the chapter. As I stated previously, I'm going through some familial matters, and I got wrapped up in it again for the last chapter. So, again, sorry for not updating for… fourteen days? Huh.**

**I also got distracted by watching Spider-Man: Far From Home. Great movie, and I love how they introduced a lot of people to the Noir outfit. While Spider-Verse introduced the character, said character was always wearing a trench coat and fedora, so you don't really get to see his outfit. And next on my list of excuses is how much time of started putting into BF1 again, so there's that too.**

**Anyways, as always, review! It helps with motivation and pushes me to write the chapters faster. And thanks to all that followed and/or favorited!**


	4. Chapter IV: The Meeting

**0-0-0**

**Augusto Vega**

"I thought you said we'd train," the Kwami reminded the teen. He had clambered back into his room after barely spending five minutes outside messing with the kunai.

"I didn't know how hot it was outside," was Augusto's response

The Kwami was silent for moment, scanning options in his head before suggesting, "Do you want to switch up your suit?"

The teen pondered the idea for a while, before shrugging, "Sure, why not?"

After spending most of the day looking at the seemingly endless options to customize his outfit, dealing with Lara, and reading, he finally got a suit he was somewhat happy with.

Augusto was standing in front of a mirror in a blackened and muted version of the original suit. The orange was replaced with a dark grey, and the white on his belly was the same color, albeit darkened to a degree. Even his hair, which was now almost a dark grey with auburn tinges, had been darkened. The only constant about the color palette was with the stripes, which remained the same solid black. It looked like had just run through plumes of smoke.

His eyes contrasted the muted color palette of his suit with brighter, almost vermillion, irises. His pupils were also more akin to a slit, similar to that of a cat's.

He had no firearms on him, as, even though he now knew he could use them, he still didn't feel too comfortable with them. He _did_ still have the two sabers holstered on his hips, though, along with the Kunai. These were also in muted greys and whites.

"Do I really need this?" he muttered to both himself and the Kwami which should be in his head. No response. "Rybbo, stripe change!"

An orange flash lit up the room, and he was back in his default, orange, white, and black outfit.

He glanced at the clock in his room. Nine forty. He pondered going early for a moment, then simply shrugged and leapt out his window, making a beeline for the Eiffel Tower.

**0-0-0**

Ten minutes later, he was at the top of the Eiffel Tower. Apparently, Ladybug hadn't arrived yet, so he decided to play a bit of prank. He deftly slid down to the highest platform, keeping a hand wrapped around a pole of the scaffolding. The friction didn't bother him, as the suit seemed to neutralize his ability to sense said friction.

He gracefully landed, and with one last glance around, he quickly imagined a maintenance worker's outfit and stated, "Rybbo, stripe change."

In a flash of orange, he was in a maintenance worker's outfit. The tiger color scheme remained, though it was dark enough up there that he doubted someone would be able to tell at first glance, no matter how close.

He still felt his ears under his hardhat, but his tail was nowhere to be found. He quickly swiped a hand across the area around his eyes, feeling that the mask was still in place. Augusto looked over the outfit for the next few minutes. It was oddly casual for a superhero, but, then again, this wasn't his suit; just a disguise.

After a second, the thought of a somewhat grand exit popped into his head. He fell into a pose, acting as if he was examining the scaffolding of the Eiffel Tower, all while thinking of the grandeur exit.

After another minute, he heard an odd zipping, almost like a reel, and quickly deduced that it must be Ladybug's yo-yo. It was only a few seconds later that he heard a rather light thud. He glanced upwards, not allowed much of his face to be seen, and saw who he expected.

Ladybug was standing a few feet to his left, yo-yo at her hip and her eyes scanning the city around her. "Looking for someone?" Augusto asked, making his voice sound much deeper than usual, and a touch less monotone.

Ladybug nearly jumped in fright, but after a second made out the form of what she presumed was a maintenance worker kneeling in front of the scaffolding. "Yeah, I'm looking for the new Tiger-hero-guy. He didn't happen to pass by here, did he?" she asked.

He pretended to ponder, "I do think he stopped by a few minutes earlier. He's still here, actually."

"Where?" Ladybug looked confused.

"Here," Augusto gave a small half-smirk, "Rybbo, stripe change."

In the blink of an eye, he was back in his regular tiger suit. He had somehow managed to change poses in that amount of time too, as he now had his arms clasped behind his back and his head tilted to the side.

Ladybug stumbled a tiny bit, surprised, before asking, "How'd you do that?"

"One of my powers," he simply shrugged, "Anyways, you wanted to talk?"

The heroine quickly recovered, her face becoming stoic, "First things first, are you willing to give up your Miraculous?"

"No," he responded with a tinge of irritation. Something about that question had him feel a twinge of annoyance.

"Are you going to be a threat to anyone, then? Because with your guns and swords, it seems like you could."

"No," he replied coolly, his tail swishing calmly behind him.

"Will you aid in Akuma attacks?" she asked. Now, she seemed more as if she was asking simply asking questions and not interrogating someone. Augusto somewhat understood Ladybug's point of view, since he was a hero that came out of the blue with lethal weapons, and completely new, unknown powers.

"I may help, but it depends on whether you need help and how I feel. If I see you and Chat Noir struggling, I'll assist. If not, I may simply watch."

Ladybug seemed completely relaxed, now, knowing that he was definitely not a threat and that he was willing to fight Akumas.

"Are you more comfortable with me now?" he asked, unclasping his hands and letting them rest by his sides, though he kept his head tilted.

"A bit."

"Well, then I should take my leave," before Ladybug could reply and Augusto lost his nerve, he nonchalantly waltzed over to the edge of the platform and stepped over the edge. When he was sure Ladybug couldn't see him, he quickly threw his kunai, which hooked onto a metal pipe underneath the platform soundlessly. It reeled him in until he deftly grabbed the pipe silently, pulling the kunai out. He then proceeded to shuffle around a little on the pipe, grabbing onto it like a lifeline, and made it so he was facing down and was obscured by the shadows. Predictably, this also made it so that he could see the ground, hundreds of feet below him. He had prepared for it, though, so he only slightly lost his grasp upon seeing the height.

This all happened within the span of two seconds.

He quickly heard a few footsteps move around on top of the platform, a small sound of confusion, and then, from his position, saw Ladybug zip away into the night.

But this was pushed into the background of his mind as he saw the Parisian skyline. Before, due to a small sense of panic and urgency that had surfaced from him seeing exactly how high he was, he simply kept his eyes down and glued to the ground. Now, that he had looked up to see Ladybug leave, he got the view of a skyline.

His eyes widened in surprise; he had known that Paris was a beautiful city before, when he saw a small portion of the skyline from on top of one of the buildings, but what he was experiencing then was completely different. It almost felt like he was flying. Dark silhouettes contrasted against the cloud-laden sky in the background, with lights almost everywhere. They contrasted in way that was both harsh and beautiful against the darkness of night.

It was all so simply stunning that he completely lost his grip in his stupor, and fell from the pipe, immediately snapping him out of the stupor.

It took him a moment to process the feeling of falling, though, and when he did, his first instinct was to panic, and for a second, he panicked _hard_. He felt a scream die in his throat, his breath taken by the sheer fear he was experiencing.

But then, the tiger instincts took over. Almost automatically, his hand took the kunai from his bandolier. He waited for a second, quickly scanning his surroundings for a good place to land; preferably a high place so that he could swing and lessen the abrupt stop that comes with preventing an impact.

His dilated eyes quickly found the perfect place; the arch in the Eiffel Tower that connected two legs together. As if his body was separate from his hand, he threw the kunai, managing to get it right on one of the scaffolding pipes. He quickly pulled up, and his eyes turned to the ground, which, at first, was still growing closer and closer, before he was abruptly launched forward, swinging on the string of the kunai.

After the arc of the swing ended, he yanked the string, pulling out the kunai, and using the momentum to land in a roll, albeit a rough one, though he did the landing fair enough. He had stopped in a kneeling position, shaking his head to attempt to throw out the disorientation he currently felt.

After a second, he stood up, looking around. A generous amount of people were watching him, some apprehensively, others with a mixture of shock and awe. "Stunts," he explained, then sprinted off home before anything else happened.

While running, he quickly pondered checking at the bookstore again, hoping that it wasn't closed already and had some cure for the odd apprehension he felt for no apparent reason.

Little did he know, a shadowed figure was following him silently on the rooftops.

**0-0-0**

**Ladybug**

She had been slightly confused when the new hero had pulled that sunt, seemingly walking off the edge of the platform and disappearing. While Ladybug genuinely couldn't find him afterwards, she quickly reasoned that he must still be around there somewhere, and he'd leave once she left.

So she did just that, but only for the immediate area. She kept her eye on the Eiffel Tower and, sure enough, two minutes later, the silhouette of a man could be seen free-falling from the platform where they had met. For a few seconds, Ladybug had been completely on edge, ready to pluck him out of the air if need be since she really didn't need somebody finding a miraculous on an unconscious, or worse yet, _dead_, boy.

Especially if what she had seen was a sort of taste of his powers. She'd have to talk to Tikki later about them, and maybe they were unlockable powers for her via power-ups. She couldn't imagine how much easier it'd be to take down Akumas and even _Hawkmoth_ with the ability of immediate disguise.

She was pulled out of her thoughts as the silhouette threw something at the Eiffel Tower with a string, somewhat similar to her yo-yo, and used it to the swing from one side underneath the Tower to the other, and landing safely, from what she could tell. The wielder then said something to one of the people, and started sprinting with startling speed, quickly climbing up to one of the building rooftops.

One thing that stuck out to Ladybug was his method of climbing. While Chat Noir and her could easily get onto a rooftop with just a leap. The newer user seemed to prefer more grabbing at handholds and footholds, thrusting himself upwards towards the roof.

Now, he was running across the Parisian skyline, and Ladybug quickly made to follow him. After about three minutes, tiger-boy paused on a rooftop, staring at a place. Ladybug stopped and positioned herself so that she could see what he was staring at.

A bookstore, apparently.

She heard a _whoosh_ and then, when she looked back, he was gone. She mentally cursed herself for letting her attention stray. She glanced around, making sure that he hadn't spotted her and was simply sneaking up on her.

Deciding that he wasn't sneaking up on her, she walked over to the edge and peered over, reasoning that his civilian identity would enter the bookstore.

After half a minute, a teenage boy walked in, hands in his pockets. But she had noticed late enough that she hadn't been able to see his facial features. Only a mop of hair, and even then, she didn't have much of an idea of what color it was.

She stayed there, waiting for him to walk out.

**0-0-0**

**Augusto Vega**

Thankfully, the bookstore hadn't closed yet. It didn't close until ten thirty, oddly enough, so he had some time. There were a few other people there, but they were all quietly

What he found strangest, though, was that the same girl was working the desk. He cleared his throat, quickly reverting back into his regular persona.

The girl glanced up, her eyes widening a slight bit in surprise, seemingly in recollection, but quickly lowered again, leaving her looking calm and polite again. She silently beckoned him to speak, "I need Clockwork of War II. Do you have it in stock?"

This time, her eyes widened in surprise and stayed that way, "Another Clockworker?"

At this point, Augusto's social ineptitude was overshadowed by his confusion, "Pardon?"

"No, I'm saying that anybody into Clockwork of War is extremely rare in these parts."

"You're into it too?"

"Yep; read all the way up to IV. Leon gets into some crazy stuff in III."

Augusto grinned, forgetting that he wasn't exactly the most charismatic person, "I'd rather not get any spoilers. I just found out about it last week and I finished the first one a few days ago. You're right, though. I think most of Clockwork's fans are in the Americas."

The girl nodded, "Yeah. I don't think its themes are fit for a French palette. Or a good part of Europe, for that matter."

"_Ahem_," somebody cleared out their throat behind Augusto, signifying he was holding up a line. The Argentine teen felt his cheeks warm up a slight bit in embarrassment while he stepped aside, letting whoever it was step forward and buy their book.

It was a rather scraggly college student, with messy, long hair. He handed over a book and went along with the transaction, leaving with a chime at the door.

A bit more subdued now, Augusto asked the girl, "Do you have Clockwork in stock?"

"I'll go check. Not too sure; it's not an exactly big series here."

With that, she stood up and walked off to an employee area. The teenager waited for a minute before she came back again, empty-handed.

"I'm guessing you don't have it?"

"Nope. If we do get it, we'll deliver it to your place, you just have to fill out the forum," she then grabbed a paper from the desk and handed it to him. It asked for the book, his address, and method of payment. He shrugged and filled it out, handing it back to her once he was done, "I'll be going now."

She simply nodded as another person came up to the desk, so Augusto saw himself out. His feeling of apprehension was gone now, so he was successful to some degree. He walked back into the alley and transformed, climbing up to the rooftops. He intended to stare at the Parisian skyline from a preferably elevated area, so he set off for the nearest cathedral he saw, grinning a bit at the thought of witnessing its beauty again.

**0-0-0**

**Ladybug**

After trailing what she possibly thought was the Tiger's civilian form and finding out it was just some random college student on his way to have some _fun_ with his girlfriend, she had given up. She had headed home, feeling unusually tired and wanting to ask Tikki a few questions before going to bed.

So that's why she was lying in bed, with the red Kwami munching on a cookie on her shelf.

"Tikki?"

"Yes, Marinette?"

"Have you heard of a tiger Miraculous?"

She heard the cookie drop and hit plastic, "Did you say _tiger_?"

Marinette, feeling slightly unnerved, responded with an uneasy, "Yes."

Tikki immediately zipped in front of Marinette, looking incredibly worried, "How'd you hear of his existence?"

"I interacted with the wielder?..." the teenage girl was starting to lose her nerve, and it only worsened when the Kwami looked like she had just been slapped.

"Did they threaten you?"

"No… Tikki, why are you so worried?"

"The tiger Miraculous solely exists to act as a way to fight against ladybug and cat Miraculous wielders if they've gone rogue. While this, in essence, isn't bad, the Miraculous has been misused for most of its history. One of my most well-liked wielders was assassinated by a tiger wielder in cold blood."

Marinette couldn't respond, only trying to process the information.

"If it's active, that means that someone wants to hurt you!"

"But why would anyone want to hurt Ladybug?" Marinette asked in a somewhat dazed state.

"Hawkmoth wants to hurt you," Tikki pointed out.

"He wants her Miraculous."

"He's had no qualms in putting you in lethal situations."

"Still."

The Kwami sighed, "I'll just show you."

With that, she zipped into the Miraculous, and Marinette abruptly felt incredibly sleepy. Her eyelids felt like the weighed a thousand tons, and before she could do anything, she had passed out, falling backwards onto her bed.

**0-0-0**

**Muriel Allemand**

**France, Reign of Terror (February 7****th****, 1794)**

**[NOTE: GORE & VIOLENCE, SKIP TO END FOR SUMMARY]**

"I'm innocent!" she cried at the crowd, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. She knew it was too late, that her fate had already been sealed. She'd soon meet her partner. But still, she shouted in an act of desperation, praying for a miracle that could save her.

The crowd roared at her, some even throwing spoiled food items in her face, one man shouting, "Traitor to the people!"

"Yes, she turned her back on the good citizens of France!" a more masculine voice cried out from beside her, "She defended the King even after his heinous crimes!"

The origin of the voice walked in front of her on the platform, raising his hands like some sort of holy oracle in an attempt to shush the crowd, "My brothers and sisters of the revolution! Coccinelle is guilty of many things."

The crowd let out a wave of cheers in agreement as he carried on, "Of treason against the citizens of France. Of defending a _tyrant_."

The atmosphere was thick with dread as Muriel saw no way out alive. She had nothing else to say, either, as that would simply anger the mob further and make the guillotine drop faster. She prayed to God that, somehow, by some majestic act of divine intervention, she'd escape with her head.

He continued, "The criminal Chat-à-Griffes has already been caught and executed, as many of you may now. Only a month ago were we all standing here, anticipating the beheading of a notorious royal supporter. Now, we witness another."

The man turned to her, allowing her to see him fully. She hated him. She hated the tiger Miraculous and the powers it gave. She wanted to break out of her binds and force Tigre Rebelle's face onto a grindstone and watch as the rock tears away at his flesh.

The dirty domino mask and hood obscuring his identity shadowed the rest of his face, only his wicked grin and cat-like eyes visible.

"So, Muriel," he stated, his voice much lower and intended for only her to here, "It seems I get your Miraculous after all. When you reach your dearest partner in whatever afterlife there is, tell him that you _failed_. Be prepared to see Papillon up there too in a while."

His hand reached to Coccinelle's right, and at that moment, she knew her time was up. She allowed herself to cry, hanging her head downwards and letting the tears flow. All that she had ever loved would be stripped away from her, just like that.

She saw Tigre Rebelle's hand reach for the rope that, if pulled, would drop the blade and separate her head from her body.

He turned to the crowd again, raising his fist in triumph, "To the revolution!"

"To the revolution!" the crowd cried, and she closed her eyes before hearing a snap and then a whistle before something hit her in the cheek. She felt delirious, as if this was some poorly-crafted dream. She opened her eyes, confused. Shouldn't she be dead?

And that's when she saw the gory sight; her dead body with blood gushing from her now opened neck. She tried screaming, but nothing came out. She felt something tugging at her hair, and her view changed from that of her defiled body to the crowd, cheering uproariously.

And then everything went black.

_**[SUMMARY: Muriel Allemand, the Coccinelle of Revolutionary-Era Paris, is killed by guillotine on February 7**__**th**__**, 1794 by Marcel Besson, otherwise known as the Tigre Rebelle]**_

**AN: So while the guillotine scene may seem a bit outlandish, there are a few iffy sources during the Revolution that spun tales of human heads expressing emotions and opening their eyes up to thirty seconds after they've been decapitated. And while they may be false, it's been scientifically proven that the brain does chemically stay alive for a few seconds post-decapitation. So chalk it up to science and the magic of the Miraculous.**

**Anyways, this is the last semi-carefree chapter of the story. I originally made this story to explore some dark themes with the relatively light premise of being set in the MLB universe. Next chapter will be 'the call' so to speak.**

**I went through at least six rewrites of this chapter, all branching off into different possibilities and relatively major differences to the plot. There was one where Ladybug found out Augusto's identity and reported it to the police, there was one where an Akuma popped up that was especially difficult and lead to Augusto utilizing lethal force to stop it after a car chase, etc.**

**All variables led to him ending up in Poland, though, where the bulk of the story will take place. So, as they say, all roads lead to Poland. Wait, shit, that was Rome.**

**All reviews, favorites, and follows are very much appreciated!**


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